RIP Yarrow Hen

RIP Yarrow Hen, who died yesterday evening. She had a good life, well lived. With us she had had 18 months of freedom, after her 18 months in the cruel battery cages.

As those of you who have followed my blog since 2012 will know,  Yarrow was a very special girl; even amongst hens who are ALL special to us, she was a little star. I  am very sad to lose her and miss her hugely, already.

She had been "winding down" for a few months and I am so glad she had a really good last day in the sun; sitting on my lap and being cuddled and told how much I loved her; sitting on the ground in the sunshine soaking up the rays; being cuddled by her flock who all came and collapsed all around her as only hens can do. 

Despite all this, and despite having a normal morning yesterday, by  the afternoon Yarrow was obviously suffering  (not able to walk around, deep purple coloured comb, gasping, not able to eat even the treat of unlimited mealworms). 

I can normally dispatch chickens who are in distress or injured but  this time I found myself unable to kill my pet hen Yarrow, for which I feel ashamed (as I should have been able to help her when she was suffering, but could not). So, I quickly took Yarrow down to Mike our Vet, who agreed her time had come, due to a  combination of failing heart/old age, and who ended her suffering kindly and quickly.

Mike, who as a newly qualified Vet helped Yarrow to recover from a broken leg during his first few weeks at our local practice, has been such a help over the last 18 months.  With all the issues the ex battery hens in my little flock have had, especially Yarrow, he has been such a help, for which  I thank him so much. And I especially thank him for his kindness and understanding as to why I was crying over the death of what many people might dismiss as "just a hen". He was lovely, as are all the staff at our local Veterinary  Surgery. We are very lucky with them.

We buried Yarrow hen  in the wood today, in the place where many other feathery friends are also buried. She liked to furtle around in the wood and it seems a good place for her remains to be buried. I heard my first Skylark of 2013 as we were filling in the hole. Appropriate, I felt.

Fly high, little Yarrow hen and know you are missed and were very loved indeed.